


Ghost Writer

by GreyLiliy



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:33:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23902390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: Ghost Writer didn’t know how Clockwork did it.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Ghost Writer

**Author's Note:**

> [First posted to Tumblr on May 28, 2015 as “Drabble #115 - Ghost Writer.” Crossposted to Archive of Our Own on April 28, 2020. Only the work itself has been posted.]
> 
> Written as a Request.

Ghost Writer opened the door to his empty hall and blew a bit of bangs out of his face.

He dumped his newly written novel on the desk, thankful that Warden Walker at least permitted personal activities during his stay in the Ghost Prison. Writing was a wonderful way to pass the time behind bars.

And ensure that his stay was short.

Once he’d gotten over his fear of that wretched orange, Ghost Writer had put his powers to good use and wrote himself out of the prison.

It was a wonderful thing, being able to rewrite reality.

Ghost Writer took a seat behind his desk and crossed one leg over the other. It was also much easier when you weren’t writing a poem and didn’t have to worry about the rules. Fiction had so few, Ghost Writer could do as he pleased.

But, all stories must end all the same, and his ended with Walker apologizing for keeping the good Writer past his sentence time.

Ghost Writer didn’t know how Clockwork did it. Keeping everything in his head running at all times. Seeing everything. Knowing everything. When Ghost Writer wrote, he had the same ability—he knew everything.

Just as he knew that young Danny would learn his lesson after the stumble over words that rhyme with orange. It’s an odd thing knowing the future and not being able to stop it.

Nothing rhymed with orange.

Ghost Writer rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his empty chair. First time he gets a visitor in years, and he traps him in a Christmas Poem and gets himself locked in jail.

Ghost Writer pulled over a notebook and flipped to the first page. He considered writing himself a visitor, but what good would that do? He’d know it was fake. He’d know it would end. And he knew it wouldn’t do any good.

It was all fiction. Fake.

He stared at the closed door and wondered if he hadn’t been better off in that jail cell, writing quietly while people walked about. Ghost Writer snorted and reached behind him to pull a book off the shelf.

Thought for another day.

For now, he would read.

He’d write himself a fake happy ending tomorrow.


End file.
